Snowflakes Over Bay Tree Terrace (Willowbury) Page 8
Florence, realising that Sam thought he really had put his foot in it, decided to let him off, and laughed. ‘Don’t worry about it. You were in the navy. Didn’t you ever feel like cutting loose and being a bit naughty, deliberately not making the effort just because you didn’t have to?’
Sam’s brow furrowed slightly. ‘Well, on leave abroad we did tend to have quite a good time. I suppose you get so ingrained in routines, it’s nice to break out of them sometimes.’
‘Exactly,’ Florence said. ‘Let’s go and get that coffee, and you can tell me all about your wild nights on shore leave!’
Sam laughed. ‘I think I’ll have to know you a whole lot better before I tell you anything about that!’
As they crossed the threshold into The Cosy Coffee Shop, Florence found herself thinking that she’d definitely like to get to know Sam better. It would be nice to have a friend on the other side of the party wall, instead of just an acquaintance she waved at when they happened to leave the house at the same time, or chatted to only at rehearsals.
‘I so need this!’ Florence said gratefully as Sam wandered over to their table with two steaming americanos and a couple of slices of cake on a tray. ‘I’ve not had a lot of sleep again this week.’
‘Nothing to do with, you know, the guitar playing, I hope?’ Sam replied. ‘I’ve not checked recently to make sure he’s not been practising at three in the morning again.’
‘No, nothing like that this time,’ Florence sighed. ‘It’s mainly schoolwork keeping me up. Even though I’m only working three days a week, the marking is still insane. A new school means that everyone’s keeping an eye on how you perform, even if they claim they’re not, and so I’m making sure everything is done as well as I can do it.’
‘Don’t you think you’re being a little bit hard on yourself?’ Sam asked. ‘I’m sure your colleagues are probably just trying to get through their days, too. I bet they’re not judging your every move.’
Florence smiled. ‘Maybe it’s just me, then. I just want to do the best job I can. After all, this is only a temporary contract in the first instance, so I’m trying to prove I’m worth making permanent.’ She shook her head. ‘But I’m boring myself. What about you? How’s your week been?’
‘Oh, same old, same old,’ Sam said lightly.
‘Really?’ Florence raised an eyebrow. ‘I’d have thought that, in your line of work, nothing was ever routine.’
Sam took a sip of his coffee. ‘Well, it’s true enough that I never quite know where we’ll be going from one shift to the next,’ he conceded, ‘but now I’ve got to know the helicopter, that, at least, doesn’t have that many surprises.’
‘Have you always wanted to fly?’ Florence asked, aware of the sudden warmth in Sam’s eyes.
‘Always,’ Sam replied. ‘It’s kind of in my blood. Dad was a navy pilot, and my grandfather before him, too. It’s all I ever wanted to do.’ His eyes assumed a faraway expression. ‘The first time I went up in a glider, I knew that I wanted to fly. And when I joined the navy it felt like I’d come home.’ Embarrassed, he looked down at his hands. ‘For ten years I lived that life and ended up in the front seat of the helicopters, flying on and off the ships and feeling that incredible buzz.’
‘Why not the Royal Air Force instead?’ Florence asked. ‘If flying’s your first love?’
Sam grinned. ‘Family tradition, I guess. And I’ve never been one to get seasick!’
Florence glanced at his face, still animated, but obviously reliving his memories. ‘So why did you stop?’ she asked. ‘You sound like you loved it.’
‘I did,’ Sam said. ‘More than almost anything.’ He looked at her. ‘But things change, don’t they? You can’t always keep doing the thing you love.’
Florence was torn. There was something in Sam’s voice that suggested a deeper story, a deeper reason, but she didn’t know if she should probe him for it. Then, figuring that he could only clam up, she thought she’d risk it. ‘So, what happened?’
Sam paused, and it seemed to Florence that he was weighing up what, if anything, to tell her; that he was somewhere else for a few moments, reliving another time and place. Eventually, he answered. ‘My brother, who bucked the family tradition, joined the army when he left school. He was always the more rebellious one, and he didn’t want to just follow in the footsteps of everyone else. He was deployed twice to Afghanistan. Near the end of that second tour, he got blown up by a roadside bomb in Helmand. That was just over two years ago.’ Sam said softly.
Florence gasped, thinking back again to Josie’s flippant comment about bombs, and knew, instantly, that Josie would never have made it, had she known about Sam’s brother’s experience. ‘Oh my god. Did he…’
‘He was hurt badly, but they managed to airlift him out.’ Sam shook his head. ‘The physical injuries were bad, but they put him back together. The mental scars ran deeper. He was the only survivor from his unit, and he witnessed the rest of them lose their lives. He was discharged from the army on medical grounds. I left the navy as soon as I found out so that I could do what I could for him once the immediate treatment had come to an end.’
‘So how is he now?’ Florence asked. She remembered colleagues of her father’s who had been through similar experiences during the Troubles in Northern Ireland, and his sense of pride and sadness when he spoke of them.
Sam paused, as if he was wrestling with something. ‘Mostly, he’s making a good recovery,’ he said. ‘But at times it takes him over. The doctors keep adjusting his medication, experimenting to see what will work long term, but it’s a numbers game. He sees a counsellor regularly as well, which helps.’
‘Do you spend a lot of time together?’
‘You could say that,’ Sam smiled. ‘But even so, it’s not easy to keep an eye on him. The meds can affect him differently at different times. Often they mess with his biorhythms so he becomes quite nocturnal. That’s why you’ve been hearing a lot of early-morning guitar playing recently.’
Florence was lost. What did Aidan’s guitar playing have to do with Sam’s brother? She’d imagined that his brother, wherever he was, would still be under the supervision of a Forces medical unit. Then she felt embarrassed; she should know better than to assume anything like that. Then it clicked.
‘Aidan’s your brother, isn’t he?’
Sam looked surprised at the question. ‘Well yeah. Why? What did you think he was?’ As he saw Florence blushing furiously, the penny dropped and he burst out laughing. ‘You mean you thought we were… a couple? Just because we live together? Isn’t that a bit of a leap? He’s going to piss himself laughing when he hears that!’
Florence, face flaming, couldn’t help laughing. ‘Well, the way he was acting when he gave me the pot of roses, saying how you didn’t like things left messy in the kitchen, and his tone of voice when he spoke about you, he sounded like one half of an old married couple. I just assumed you were… you know. And you look nothing alike,’ she added, slightly defensively.
‘I’m going to have a word with him when I get home,’ Sam grinned broadly. ‘He’s made me sound like an OCD loser in front of the neighbour.’
‘I wouldn’t go that far!’ Florence laughed. ‘Although it was kind of cute, the way he talked about you.’
Sam looked deeply into Florence’s eyes for a moment. ‘Well, I can assure you that Aidan and I are definitely brothers; he’s absolutely not the great love of my life.’ Sam shuddered theatrically. ‘And yes, you’re right, we look nothing alike.’
‘Well, I can’t be blamed for making an honest mistake then,’ Florence said, beginning to recover her equilibrium. She was ignoring her pulse, that, irrationally, had sped up on the discovery that Sam wasn’t Aidan’s partner. That didn’t mean he wasn’t gay, though, she kept trying to remind herself.
Sam grinned in abashment. ‘Yup. I guess I was a bit too on the defensive that day you knocked on the door to complain to come clean with you. But, no, he’s actually my bab
y brother.’
Florence laughed. ‘You certainly kept that one quiet.’
‘Well, I’m not keen on telling random strangers my business, even if they do live next door.’
‘I hope you don’t see me as a random stranger now,’ Florence replied. ‘After all, if Tom gets a call-up to the West End, we’re going to be on stage together.’
‘Heaven forbid!’ Sam said, gulping the last of his coffee. ‘I mean, I’m quite happy to learn lines, but I really don’t fancy actually standing there saying them in front of a load of people, including my colleagues from the SAA.’
‘I’m sure it won’t come to that,’ Florence said. She glanced at her watch. ‘Anyway, I’d better get home. I said I’d get online and take a look at some costumes for the female members of the cast, and Josie’s expecting results by the next rehearsal on Monday evening.’
‘Look, Florence…’ Sam suddenly looked unsure of himself.
‘Yeah?’
‘I’m sorry that I didn’t level with you about who Aidan was earlier. You’re a nice person, and I should have trusted you.’
‘It’s OK, Sam,’ Florence said softly. ‘It sounds like you two have been through a lot in the past couple of years. No harm done, except a broken night’s sleep.’
The pause between them was loaded with something that neither could quite identify, until, with a nervous laugh, Sam got up from the table. ‘Can I walk you home?’ he asked.
Florence grinned. ‘If you’re sure it’s not out of your way!’
‘I think I can manage a slight detour to your door without being home too late myself.’ Sam loaded up the two coffee cups and cake plates and returned them to the counter, where Jack Winter, the owner of the shop, took them from him gratefully. The lunchtime rush was just starting to gain momentum and, from what Florence could see, Jack was working single-handed today.
As Sam sauntered back to their table, she stood and, with a flush of pleasure, smiled as Sam held the cafe door open for her. He really wasn’t as standoffish as she’d first thought, she mused as they fell in step beside one another on the walk home. In fact, if she wasn’t careful, she could even end up falling for him, and that just wouldn’t do. After all, she was busy enough already with the house, school and the play; a relationship would be completely out of the question.
Just before they reached the paths to their respective front doors, Sam paused and turned back towards Florence. ‘Um…’ he began, then bit his lip.
‘What?’ Florence smiled, charmed by his obvious and sudden nerves.
‘I was just wondering… but, honestly, it’s no bother if not…’
‘What’s no bother?’ Florence didn’t know whether to be amused or irritated by the tone she could hear in her own voice; sometimes the school teacher encroached outside the classroom, especially when someone was being diffident or reticent. She’d spent enough time over the years trying to worm things out of students, from homework excuses to more serious concerns.
‘There’s an open morning at the Somerset Air Ambulance base next Sunday. I just wondered if you might like to come down and see what we do. I mean, the play is being put on to raise funds for us, and it seems like a nice idea, if you can spare the time. I could, er, show you round if you like.’ Clearly still nervous, he rubbed the back of his head with his right hand. ‘The company which maintains the helicopter is bringing a spare down for people to look around and, operations permitting, there’ll be a chance to see the ops room and some of the other aspects of our work. Those not on duty have been asked to come in and lead a couple of demos, that sort of thing. It’s pretty small scale because obviously we’re still going to be fully operational, but if you fancied it…’ he paused, before adding hurriedly ‘Unless you’ve got other plans, of course.’
Florence’s heart thumped. Was Sam asking her on a date? Was that what she wanted? Or was this just an offer from a neighbour, because he wanted to show her where the money from the play was going to go? ‘Er, I’ll have to check my diary, but if I can make it, that sounds great,’ she said. Then, without thinking, she added, ‘I’ll see if Josie wants to come too. As the director, I’m sure she’d be really keen to see the base.’
Was it disappointment that flickered over Sam’s face when she added that? Florence wondered. It was a momentary expression, and then it was gone.
‘Great,’ he said, after the minutest of pauses. ‘Well, let me know and I can show you, er, both around.’ There was another pause. ‘Well, have a good rest of the weekend,’ he said finally, making a move towards his own front door.
‘You too,’ Florence replied. As she pushed the key into the lock, she glanced round to see Sam looking in her direction, barely a foot and a half away, and blushed. ‘Take care,’ she added as she opened the door.
She found herself thinking about that exchange long after she’d closed the door and settled in for the rest of the day with her marking, and later, a film and a glass of wine. Had she made a faux pas by suggesting she bring Josie with her? Had Sam really intended on seeing her alone? He was so diffident sometimes, she just couldn’t read him. Those perfectly erected barriers that must come from a life of professional training, like her teacher voice, bled over into other aspects of his life, or at least that’s what it felt like. Surely, if he’d intended just to spend time with her, he’d have asked her out on a date?
Eventually, she decided to just ask Josie if she fancied coming anyway. Sam had been infuriatingly ambiguous and she didn’t want to assume anything. She sent Josie a quick text to see if she was, indeed, free next Sunday and let that be the decider. She also felt cautious about reading too much into the time she and Sam had spent together. She’d snogged too many squaddies in her time as an army brat to even consider getting involved with someone from the military, even if Sam was no longer in the navy. That kind of commitment to a job ran deep, and she knew it never really left those who worked in the Forces. Sam might be handsome, and charming, but there was clearly baggage there, and baggage was absolutely the last thing she needed.
16
The Saturday before the SAA open day saw Willowbury celebrating something a little different; its annual celebration of all things frosty, Winterfest. Although these days it was held in the late autumn rather than the depths of winter, it was still a sight to behold. For one Saturday a year, the High Street gave itself over to stallholders selling all manner of weird and wonderful items, and every other person Florence encountered on the day was wearing some kind of velvet hat or cloak. Although, perhaps these days the commercial interests of the town had made this event a little more about money than it used to be, it was still a great chance to see the residents of Willowbury out in force.
Florence could hear the bands that had set up at either end of the High Street as she strolled out to take in the atmosphere on Saturday afternoon. As she joined the crowds who were wandering up the High Street, she was assailed by the scents of a variety of types of street food, from cauldrons of spicy broth and curry to the smoky aroma of burgers flipping on a flaming griddle. On either side of the street were stalls selling a variety of craft items, including tie-dyed clothing, hats adorned with brightly coloured flowers, and rails of velvet coats, patchwork skirts and hand-knitted jumpers and scarves. Unlike the laid-back, weekend-long celebration of the summer, Willowfest, which took place in the grounds of the priory in the centre of the town, this homage to winter felt like a hive of activity, as if visitors knew that night would soon fall and the temperatures with it.
Huddling into her coat against the rapidly cooling afternoon air, Florence smiled as she spotted a couple of her students, carrying huge sticks of candyfloss and pointing out some of the weirder and wackier items on sale. She herself was tempted by a large, multicoloured double-bobbled hat from one of the stalls outside ComIncense, the health and well-being shop, but decided that it was a little out of her price range for something she probably wouldn’t have the nerve to wear outside of her own garden anyway. She
did buy a new pair of fingerless gloves, though, as the fuchsia pink wool really caught her attention. Then, since it was Christmas shopping season, she bought a second pair for her mum as a present. If she didn’t see them before Christmas, she’d pop up in the New Year and deliver them herself. Her parents hadn’t yet finalised their plans for the festive season, as they loved a last minute deal and may well chose to go away for it, but Florence figured she’d hear any day now what their movements were. Her brother had emigrated to Australia some time ago, so family gatherings were few and far between. They were all excellent communicators though, and used Skype and FaceTime regularly to keep in touch.
‘Hey,’ a voice called from just behind her as she turned away after paying for the gloves. ‘This is all a bit mad, isn’t it?’
Smiling as she recognised Aidan’s tones, Florence wandered up to him. ‘It’s a town tradition,’ she said. ‘I remember being here for Winterfest as a kid and finding all the hats and incense really weird. Aunt Elsie found it all a bit much when she got older, but I like to think she enjoyed it when she was my age.’ Florence couldn’t really imagine Elsie cutting loose and dressing in velvet and a bobble hat, but there was a lot about her great-aunt she didn’t really know, despite inheriting her house.
‘Not to mention the random guys wearing antlers,’ Aidan observed as a tall, bearded gentleman wandered past in a green cloak and a pair of what looked suspiciously like real deer horns on his head.
‘Oh, you’ll get used to it,’ Florence smiled. ‘It’s not known as the pagan capital of England for nothing, you know.’
Aidan shook his head. ‘Sam’ll be sorry to have missed this.’
‘What time’s he working until?’ Florence tried to make her voice sound more casual than she felt, as she remembered Sam’s somewhat nervous invitation to the SAA base tomorrow.
‘He’s due off at seven, but, as usual, it’ll depend on the jobs.’ Aidan grinned. ‘I’ll tell him you said hi.’